


Home is where you know me

by Ziaira



Series: Burn the Map & Run Verse [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Angst, Discussion of sexual acts, Everyone is doing their best here I promise, Kenny Parson needs a hug, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Kenny Parson, bisexual!Kent, bisexual!jack, depiction of disordered eating habits, discussion of mental health issues, discussion of past trauma, maladaptive coping mechanisms, nonbinary!Kent, references to potential dub-con instigated by OCs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:35:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25740679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ziaira/pseuds/Ziaira
Summary: Sometimes the complications aren't the relationship, but the leftovers from relationships past and how they've set landmines where you least expect them.Kenny swears they're fine. Really. Probably?Zimms and Bitty just do their best with what they know.Swoops and Scraps didn't exactly sign up for this but they're going to stick around anyway.Love doesn't fix everything, but it certainly helps.Or, what happens after the second first kiss.
Relationships: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann, Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Kent "Parse" Parson, Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Kent "Parse" Parson/Jack Zimmermann, Kent "Parse" Parson/Jack Zimmermann
Series: Burn the Map & Run Verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867195
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Home is where you know me

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This was supposed to be the porn missing from my original story due to running out of time during the event, and then Kenny decided we were getting a bit more introspection and angst along with it. So now it’s sex with some serious relationship work, and a realistic happy ending (I think). Un-betaed. 
> 
> stevie_RST, this has deviated slightly from the original prompt parameters and arguably may hit a few squicks. As I continue to play in this universe I intend to be very clear with my tagging.

Kenny checks their phone for the fifth time in as many minutes and sighs. This is turning into the longest morning ever. It probably wouldn’t feel as long if they were waiting at the airport, maybe, but it had been decided that it would likely be less of a media mess if Zimms and Bitty just got a taxi once they landed. So now they’re stuck sitting on the couch checking for the text that means that the two are on their way.

Of course, once that text does come through, there’s a 45 minute wait for them to actually get to the condo and Kenny gets ten minutes into that wait before panic cleaning the kitchen. Again. They’re rearranging the appliances on the kitchen island when Bitty’s arrival text comes in, causing them to jump, before reading it and running to the door, clumsily pulling it open.

“Hey,” they say a bit breathlessly, still not quite believing this is actually happening.

“Hey, Kenny.” Zimms grins back. They stay like that for a bit before Bitty pipes up, obviously amused.

“Planning on letting us in any time soon?”

“Oh! Um, right,” Kenny shuffles to the side so the two can enter, suitcases rolling behind them. As soon as the door is closed and locked they find themselves enveloped in a hug as Bitty steps into their arms and squeezes tight, Zimms wrapping them up from behind a moment after. They stay like that for a bit and Kenny feels the tension slowly bleed out of them as they press their face into the crook of Bitty’s neck and feel Zimms rest his chin on their head.

Bitty’s the first one to pull back, carefully dislodging himself before stretching, arms above his head. Kenny watches his shirt ride up and swallows hard. Jack must feel it, as he laughs softly, before speaking.

“Good view, eh?”

Bitty blinks confusedly, then smirks as he catches Jack’s meaning. Kenny flushes, then squirms slightly as Zimms tightens his hold around their waist. 

“Was a long flight, but I don’t think we’re that tired, do you, Jack?” Bitty stalks back towards them and Kenny squeaks slightly, flushing darker.

“Oh, I think we’re pretty alert,” Jack’s voice rumbles up Kenny’s spine as he speaks. Bitty tips Kenny’s chin up, brushing his thumb along their lower lip.

“You good to move this along to the bedroom, Kenny, or would you rather we move a bit slower?”

“Bed’s, ah, bed’s good,” they say, a little dazed, before flicking their tongue against his thumb as they run it across their lip. Bitty hisses out a breath before stepping fully into Kenny’s space, cradling their jaw as he pulls them in for a kiss. Zimms hums, keeping Kenny pulled tight against his body and, oh, yeah, Kenny can tell exactly how much this is doing for the brunette. 

They do make it into Kenny’s bedroom, eventually. The kissing ends up causing multiple delays along the way and they’re pretty sure that Bitty and Zimms have made some sort of contest out of pinning them up against all of the walls in the condo between the two points. Zimms steers them onto the bed, getting them to sit with a slight push, and then steps back. Kenny glances back and forth between the two of them, licking their lips before speaking up.

“You two should, uh, you should kiss, too, yeah?”

Bitty blushes, and even Zimms colours slightly as Bitty takes the directive and steps into his space, reaching up to lay a hand on his shoulder. There’s a brief pause as they stare into each other’s eyes, only a touch cliche, before Bitty pushes up and presses his lips to Jack’s. 

It starts slow but heats up as Zimms wraps his arms around the blond, pulling him in tight by the waist. A beat later his hands slide down to Bitty’s ass, eliciting a startled breathy squeak as he squeezes. Bitty’s got his hands fisted in Zimms’ shirt, tongue definitely in his mouth, and Jack’s pulled the blond’s shirt out of his pants, one hand starting to inch under the waistband.

Kenny grins and slides themself up the bed, settling propped up on the pillows. The two men are basically grinding on each other now and Kenny wonders if they’ve both forgotten they’re there. They’d be more miffed and less amused if the view wasn’t so spectacular. 

Turns out the two aren’t entirely oblivious to their surroundings as they break slightly and turn towards the bed at the sound of Kenny’s jeans unzipping.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” they grin as they finish removing their pants, “just getting comfortable. View’s great. You should definitely keep going.”

Bitty huffs out a laugh before pulling away from Jack and then crawling up the bed towards Kenny. Jack stays standing, hovering awkwardly, before Bitty smirks, patting the bed between him and the other blond.

“C’mon. Pants off and come join us. We did say we were going to ravage Kenny. Think it’s about time we made good on that promise.” With that, he moves to bracket Kenny’s legs with his own, before sliding their briefs down and pressing a kiss to their inner thigh. 

Jack’s eyes are wide and dark as he swiftly strips off his own jeans and shirt, settling alongside the others in just his boxers. Once he’s adjusted himself he runs a hand up Kenny’s torso before pulling them into another kiss. 

The kiss is significantly distracting so that, while they’re aware of Bitty peppering their thighs and hips with kisses, the first time his mouth brushes over their cock is still enough of a surprise that they end up letting out a startled gasp that’s only partially muffled by Zimms’ lips. Bitty’s soft chuckle is barely audible as Zimms’ hand slides back down their torso, pinning them to the bed, as Bitty swallows them down in earnest. 

It’s… it’s a lot, is what it is. Zimms’ hand on their middle and Bitty’s on their hips, both working to pin them to the bed, both their mouths coaxing little gasps and sighs past their lips. The kind of overwhelming that lets their brain shut off and sets them drifting, warm all the way through. When Bitty pulls back, a slightly mortifying whimper squeaks out, which gets soothed with hands rubbing up and down their thighs before he moves up the bed, mirroring Jack.

“So, I’m quite happy to continue as we have been,” he says softly, linking hands with Jack over Kenny’s stomach, “however we were thinking before that we’d really love to get you between us, get you in me while Jack fucks you.”

“Oh god,” Kenny’s eyes are wide as they surge forward, pulling Bitty into a bruising kiss. “Yes, that. Definitely that.”

Zimms, proving that he still knows Kenny far too well, has already twisted and is fishing around in the bottom drawer of the bedside table when the two separate from the kiss. He looks entirely too pleased with himself as he deposits the condoms and lube on the comforter next to Kenny’s head. There’s a brief shuffling as Bitty strips down before propping himself up at the head of the bed beside Kenny as Zimms settles himself between Kenny’s legs. They can’t quite figure out what to focus on as the two men take turns with the bottle of lube, Jack kissing them before starting to work them open while Bitty preps himself.

In the end they choose to turn their head and focus on Bitty, the little sighs he’s making and the intensely focused look on his face, lip between his teeth, as he gets going. It helps them relax a bit under Zimms’ hands. It’s not that it hurts or even that it’s uncomfortable per se, but it’s been a while since there’s been time for this sort of thing, and even longer since there was someone else in their bed when it was happening. Bitty’s up to three fingers and looks about done when Zimms’ has two and twists slightly and -

“oh! hhh…” it’s a strangled startled sort of exclamation that pops out and yeah, Zimms still knows what he’s doing. Not that they’d had a lot of opportunities for this before outside of a few unsupervised days before the draft and a handful of inadvisable Samwell visits after that, prior to when things had properly blown up.

“Think you’re ready?” It’s Bitty’s voice in his ear, although Zimms has slowly pulled out, clearly on the same page. They nod, thankful Jack’s kept a hand on their hip and feeling a bit more vulnerable than they’d expected, all things considered.

“Yeah. I, yeah. Please.”

Perhaps they’re a bit transparent, as Bitty and Zimms proceed to take over and handle rearranging them, Bitty rolling on the condom as Jack settles them between Bitty’s legs. Bitty’s also the one who lines them up, pressing a hand to the small of their back to urge them in. 

If having Bitty’s mouth on them earlier had been a lot this is, well, they’re probably a bit wide eyed right now and certainly overwhelmed. Jack’s hands are settled on their hips as they bottom out, blanketing Bitty. He gives them a few breaths like that, Kenny assumes there’s some eye contact and mental conversation going on over their shoulder as Bitty nods after a moment and Zimms’ hands move to their ass briefly before letting go. There’s the crinkle and tearing noise of a wrapper followed by the click of the bottle lid before there’s a hand back on them and then the press of Jack’s cock. 

Bitty’s hands come up to bracket their face, pulling them into a lingering kiss. Focusing on Bitty’s tongue against theirs and the way he shifts his hips slightly and - heat, pressure, pleasure- let them relax into the sensation until the urge to press back and meet Zimms partway takes over, leading to a surprised gasp from both sides as Bitty’s eyes widen as they pull out nearly all the way and Jack is suddenly tight against Kenny’s back.

“Still full of surprises,” Jack bites out, breathing heavily, before pulling out and sliding back in again in one smooth move, pressing Kenny back tight against Bitty’s chest and earning breathy gasps from both blonds.

In the end there isn’t as much of a rhythm to things as Kenny’s used to. They very quickly give up attempting to gain control of anything either, the others’ movements dictating the progression of events. It’s not long before they’re basically just panting against Bitty’s shoulder, mouthing at his skin from time to time and occasionally managing to catch his mouth for a sloppy kiss, trading off with Zimms when it gets to be too much. They’re pretty sure that Jack’s teeth are going to leave marks along their own neck and shoulders, not that they can bring themselves to care. 

Bitty comes first, tightening his grip abruptly and pulling Kenny over with him. Jack fucks them through it, coming with a groan a few thrusts later before pulling out and slumping ungracefully down beside them, Kenny still vaguely in Bitty and only barely not flattening the other blond. They all lie there like that for a bit, breathing heavily, until Bitty gets a hand between them, easing Kenny out so he can strip off the condom, tying it closed before dropping it over the side of the bed and onto the floor. Jack snorts before following his lead, and then turning to spoon the two of them. 

Kenny closes their eyes as they snuggle into them, suddenly feeling like they might cry, which is… not what they’d expected. They feel a little floaty still and all too aware of the proximity of the two men. They try to steady their breathing without being obvious about it, worried to make the others think they’ve done something wrong, as Jack pulls them and Bitty in tight against him. It doesn’t take long for Zimms to start snoring in their ear, Bitty drifting off shortly after. 

Kenny feels like they’re stuck in a loop, trying not to move and figure out why they seem like they’re on the edge of wanting to run. The two had been attentive, gentle, and caring. This was good. This was really good. 

So why do they feel so bereft right now?

Kenny wakes up alone, covers tucked in tight around them. It takes them a moment to figure out why they feel so exhausted, followed by a moment of intense dread when they fully realize that they’re alone in bed. They struggle through a few panicky breaths before they register the noise of shifting pots and pans, and the faint strains of Beyonce coming from the direction of the kitchen. The feeling of dread drains away slowly as they roll themself out of bed and into the shower, until it’s dropped to an almost ignorable low simmer in their gut by the time they’re dressed and hanging over Bitty’s shoulder as he flips french toast.

The day passes in a blur of ridiculous tourist traps and selfies. Zimms is his usual reserved self, animated enough in private and when signing the handful of things that get shoved his way when they detour down the strip. By the time they make it back to the condo after an incredibly good dinner served with an equally good wine Kenny is feeling pretty relaxed. Enough so that the first thing they do once they get past the door and lock it behind them is drop to their knees and blow Bitty with his back pressed up against the entry wall. 

Bitty has a death grip on their hair when he comes, slumping back with shaky legs. Kenny’s floating in a glorious haze of sensation as Zimms scoops them up after, carrying them to their bed, Bitty following slowly, where he proceeds to fuck them into the mattress, Bitty’s hand back in their hair. They all curl up to sleep after, Kenny dropping off nearly immediately.

They wake up in a cold sweat to the clock on the bedside table flashing 3:04am. Shakily extracting themself from the bed, they sneak to the guest bathroom where they promptly throw up. When they’re done they sit on the bathroom mat, back against the side of the tub, eyes wet, until Kit comes in and climbs into their lap mewing softly. They stay there until the shaking stops, letting her presence bring them down before washing their face and then using one of the spare toothbrushes under the sink. 

Bitty sleepily pulls them against his chest when Kenny slips back into bed. The clock blinking 4:44 is the last thing they register before falling back into a fitful rest.

Jack and Eric leave after breakfast, joking that they must’ve really tired Kenny out as the blond blinks slowly over their coffee. There’s hugs and kisses before the two head off to the airport, neither of them seeming to register that Kenny’s stuck in their own head, unable to shake the sense of uneasiness that something terrible is happening. They want to say something, to ask them to stay or to tell them everything is fine or… something, but they don’t, the taste of Epikegster still lingering, afraid that what will come out of their mouth will be just as sharp.

Jack and Eric leave. Kenny deep cleans the condo and spends the rest of the evening sobbing into their pillow as Kit mews plaintively from outside the closed bedroom door. 

The unsettledness of those few days gets buried under the intensity and exhaustion of practice as the following weeks progress. Kenny logs as much time on the ice or in the work out room as they can get away with, spending as little time home as possible. Swoops and Scraps watch with increasing worry as instead of bulking up they plateau, and then start dropping weight as if it was playoffs. It’s not as if they’ve stopped eating, but all the extra working out is taking its toll… and some nights they still wake up nauseous from dreams they don’t want to think about.

It all comes to a head right before they’re to go back to Providence for the second game of the season against the Falconers. They’ve been non-committal about plans with Zimms and Bitty, trying to get them to agree to play it by ear without it coming off like they don’t want to see the two. They’ve got a three-way video call going, Kenny’s laptop angled so they can’t see most of their body even though they’ve buried themself in one of their bulkier Aces hoodies, as Bitty monologues about the pies he’s planning to make for when Kenny is over at Jack’s, when there’s the thump of the condo door closing.

Kenny’s frozen like a deer in headlights when Swoops and Scraps enter the kitchen, doing a double take at the laptop screen. Bitty cuts off mid-sentence. Zimms doesn’t move either.

“I didn’t realize you had plans tonight,” Swoops says cautiously, eyeing the faces of the others.

“I-” Kenny starts. Swallows. Tries again, “I’m just-” They bolt for the sink, dry heaving and suddenly sweaty and shaking, as four voices chorus in shocked exclamations.

Scraps gets to them first as they sink to the floor, curling up to hide their face which is abruptly wet with tears.

“Cap?” He reaches out and then hesitates halfway as if something has suddenly occurred to him. “Parse? Am I alright to touch you?”

There’s a shaky sob followed by a barely perceptible nod. Scraps rubs a hand up and down their back before slowly pulling Kenny into a loose hug. Vaguely they register the sound of Swoops, Zimms, and Bitty talking in hushed tones, but everything feels like they’re underwater and stuffed full of cotton batting, making it impossible to follow the conversation. Eventually Scraps picks them up bridal style, cursing softly as he registers how little his captain truly weighs, and carries them to bed. Swoops follows, bringing the laptop with him. 

Kenny falls asleep with the two Aces sitting on top of the covers either side of them, computer balanced on Swoops’ lap as the conversation with Jack and Eric continues. They want to be more aware, apologetic, but there’s a bone deep exhaustion catching up with them coupled with a sense that they deserve whatever awful fallout comes their way.

Kenny wakes up groggy and sweaty the next morning, essentially squished between the two men in their bed. It takes longer than it should for all the pieces to fall into place, and when they do they have to stifle a sob by squishing their face into the pillow as they’re suddenly wracked by tremors. 

“Parse?” Swoop’s voice is gravely and muffled. They can’t bring themself to answer, just try to sink further into the bed. There’s a sigh and then the creak of bedsprings before Swoops gets an arm around them, pulling them in against his chest. Scraps slides more into the divot in the bed, squished up tight against Kenny’s back but still fast asleep for the moment.

“Think you can talk about it?” He tries again. Kenny shrugs in his grasp, face still resolutely in the pillow instead of their A’s shoulder. They’re starting to get an inkling of what’s been percolating in the back of their head for the last few weeks, but articulating it still feels beyond them, even as the ghost sensation of hook-ups past tickles along their skin. 

“C’mon man, we want to help but you gotta work with us here.”

They sit up abruptly, shaking Swoops off and waking Scraps with the sudden movement, feeling like they’ve had a bucket of ice water unceremoniously tossed onto them. 

“What the- Cap!?” Scraps’ voice follows Kenny as they bolt out of bed into the on-suite, door closed and locked behind them, before they sink to the floor, back to the door and shaking.  
They press their palms to the floor, counting breaths and attempting to ground themself in the chill, before the other penny drops. 

“Not a man,” it’s barely a whisper, muffled further by how their face is pressed to their knees. 

They’ve cried themself out by the time Swoops has found a toothpick and popped the lock on the bathroom door. Lucky for the other Aces it’s hinged wrong way round, so he can slowly swing it open and catch Kenny before they fall over losing the surface they’re braced on.  
They blink up at the two, Swoops’ shin propping them up, before their shoulders slump under the weight of the concern on their faces.

“I…” Kenny swallows and wonders what Zimms and Bitty did or didn’t say the night before, wonders why they’ve gone the last six years saying nothing to the two teammates who have had their back through everything the league has thrown their way. Swallows again, and-

“You know I’m not a guy, right? Not a girl either, and not a guy.”

Whatever his A and veteran defenceman had been expecting, this apparently wasn’t it. Swoops just blinks owlishly and Scraps looks contemplative for a moment before speaking.

“So, if you’re not a guy, and Bittle’s gay, is that what this is all about?”

“Uh.” They haven’t thought about it as such, but hearing it out loud like that. Oh. Maybe Scraps has a point.

Zimms may’ve been the first person Kenny fell in love with, but he wasn’t the first one they’d hooked up with, nor had there been a lack of people before they got back together. What Kenny hasn’t really done much of is date, which maybe isn’t particularly surprising considering the nature of the NHL, and being queer and closeted. When they have gone home with someone it’s generally been quick and just about getting off. They’ve never had a truly bad interaction, but… there’s a theme in the kind of women looking to hook up with a professional hockey player. With the men too, to be honest. 

Sitting on their bathroom floor, mentally scrolling through all the times they’ve had sex it becomes increasingly clear that there’s always been, explicit or implicit, the understanding that the other party was hooking up with a man. Or, well, it still feels a bit like that with Bitty and Zimms even if they have their pronouns right, even if it’s not a thing they say. Because Scraps is right. Bitty’s gay, and no matter what he’s said on the matter it still seems hard to believe he would really want to be in a relationship with someone he didn’t see as a guy.

“Guess I should probably call my therapist, huh?” Kenny feels like folding up even more on themself, shoulders up around their ears.

“Probably,” Swoops eases himself down to the floor, letting Kenny lean into his side. Scraps props himself up against the doorframe, legs stretched out in front of himself, before speaking.

“So, pronouns? And how do you want us to refer to you in front of the rest of the team? Because I don’t want to be misgendering you now we know but I definitely don’t want to out you before you’re ready.”

Kenny blinks. This wasn’t really how they’d expected this conversation to go, the few times they’d thought about it. 

“They/them. And, well, you mostly call me Parse anyway? Which is mostly fine? You can call me Kenny when it’s just us though. It’s… that one’s better.”

“Will do, Kenny.” Scraps’ grin is a little lopsided as he reaches out to give their ankle a quick squeeze which, given the amount of stress they’ve put him through over the last day, and last few weeks really to be honest, is understandable.

It takes another half hour for them to move, and another hour before they’re on a call with their therapist as the two Aces insist on making sure they eat first. Swoops tries, unsuccessfully, to hide the worried looks he keeps shooting Kenny’s way as they poke at the pesto pasta and grilled chicken. They make sure to finish it but it’s a mechanical process at best. Too, there’s a voice in the back of their head now commenting on how awful it’ll be coming back up which has gotten louder over the last week and a bit. Which, add that to the list of things not to think too hard about...

The thing with therapy, is that it’s not one and done. The really big stuff tends to have layers, and a habit of reappearing at the most inopportune times. Kenny is fully aware of this sitting across from their laptop, Dr. Fraser peering into her camera, but it doesn’t make it any easier to start the conversation. She lets them sit for a bit before tapping the end of her pencil against the papers on her clipboard.

“You indicated that you had something specific that you wanted to discuss today. Are you ready to start or should I ask you a few questions to get going?”

Kenny blinks and swallows nervously, playing with the stack of index cards in their lap. They’d had the presence of mind to write down the key thoughts circling in their head but the idea of saying any of it out loud…  
They shuffle them again before squaring their shoulders and holding the top card up to the camera.

_I’m not a man.  
I’m non-binary.  
I use they/them pronouns and prefer to go by Kenny. _

Shuffle. Next card.

_I want to be intimate with my partners but remembering old hook ups is making me feel sick.  
I don’t want to be treated like a man in bed._

Card.

_I don’t know how to talk about it without someone getting hurt._

Card.

_I don’t like feeling like this._

Card.

_What do I do?_

The answer to ‘what do I do’ is apparently an uncomfortable dissection of hookups past, a PDF workbook on recognizing and giving space to emotions, and an instructional framework for starting the process of actually discussing all of this with their partners. Also a re-implementing of the old schedule of weekly therapy sessions which, honestly, probably was a long time coming.

Swoops and Scraps have somehow become both more and less prone to hovering. More in that they seem to be watching their weight and their teammates more closely, and less in that they seem to trust Zimms and Bitty to keep an eye on them too. Which, while odd, wasn’t exactly unwelcome. Things reach full twilight zone levels however when they stop by to drop off a cutting from the overgrown succulent in their living room to find Scraps in Swoops’ kitchen eating what is obviously a Bitty pie and videoing chatting with both him and Zimms.

“Uh, what the fuck?” is their exceedingly eloquent reaction.

“Hey Kenny,” Scraps grins, “you’re interrupting the council meeting for the care and feeding of well loved Aces captains.”

Bitty snorts in laughter and Zimms ducks out of the camera for a moment as their face tracks through affront and ‘wtaf is their life right now’ before settling on mild exasperation as they set the ceramic pot down in front of Swoops, retrieve a fork from his cutlery drawer and spear a bite of what turns out to be strawberry rhubarb in a sugared crust. 

The conversation moves on to general hockey chit chat, updates on Bitty’s baking endeavors, and Kit’s current antics. Later, collapsed in laughter against their A as Bitty gestures on screen, Kenny thinks that this might just be the happiest they’ve been in months.

Things continue to ebb and flow as the season progresses. Some days are better than others, although the days where they end up locking themselves in a quiet room to sob for a bit thankfully get fewer and fewer as time goes on. They wait until the next time they can see Bitty and Zimms in person before starting the conversation about past lovers and their treatment in bed. Awkward doesn’t even begin to describe the feeling, however they’ve reconciled with the fact that putting it off is only going to continue to make things worse.

They’ve got their head in Bitty’s lap as he cards his fingers through their hair, both only half watching the documentary Zimms has playing, when they finally broach the subject.

“I’ve been talking things over with my therapist and I think I’m ready to talk about it now. Um, I mean about why I’ve been freaking out recently. It’s not a you guys thing, not really, but um, you’re kind of why it’s come up, I guess? It’s, ah, gods this is hard ‘cause I don’t want you to feel like you’ve done something wrong and it’s my fault I haven’t like articulated boundaries and stuff earlier, it’s just… um…”

Zimms mutes the documentary and twists so he’s looking directly at Kenny where they’re still trying to stare off at the wall instead of making eye contact. There’s a moment where they think he’s going to say something but he just lays a hand over Bitty’s where it’s stilled at the nape of their neck instead. They let out a shuddery breath, eyes closing, before they continue in a rush, afraid that if they get cut off they won’t be able to start up again.

“You’ve got my pronouns and my name and everything down and it’s great, but it’s harder when we’re um naked and in bed not to feel like I’m being treated like a guy? I mean, that’s kind of always been the case when I’ve hooked up with people, like they expect a certain stereotype of masculinity even if that’s not what I’m aiming for but it’s basically baked into this job and this kind of body and it’s harder to handle than I thought it was. Or maybe I was just doing a better job of ignoring how much it really bothered me until it was doing such drastic things to my body, I dunno. And I don’t know what fixes it, I really don’t, but I want to. I want to be able to have sex with you both and not feel gutted afterwards, I want it so bad, and-” they cut off on a sob and that’s it. They’re done talking and- god- they hope that was enough.

“Oh Kenny,” Bitty’s voice is soft and sad and nearly breaks something else in them as Zimms moves his hand to tilt their face towards the two men, running his thumb along their cheek brushing away tears and gently encouraging them to open their eyes. They don’t want to though, afraid of what they’ll see when they do.

“Kenny, _mon amour_ ,” Jack’s voice, low and soft, cracking a bit around the edges, is what draws their eyes open enough to take in the look on his face. Vulnerable and vaguely devastated, but full of so, so much caring.  
“Kenny. Thank you for trusting us enough to tell us how you’re feeling. _Dieu._ I’m sorry you’ve felt you couldn’t before, but I’m so glad you have now.”

They try to smile reassuringly at him, talking still an impossibility, but it’s hard to know exactly what their face is doing right now. Whatever it is, Bitty’s eyes are wide and slightly pained as he stares down at them before slowly rearranging them so that he and Kenny are tucked into Jack’s embrace, face to face with Kenny pressed against Jack’s chest.

“I love you.”

Kenny thinks they might’ve stopped breathing. Bitty… Bitty loves them?

“ _Je t’aime._ ” Zimms says it with a faint grin, hand resting above Kenny’s heart. 

They’re crying in earnest now, Bitty’s hand soft on their cheek. Kenny wants to say something but the words are caught behind their teeth, tears clogging their throat, and all they can do is stare back at Bitty awestruck, reach a hand up to tangle fingers with Zimms and squeeze tight. They fall asleep like that, cried out, and heart fit to burst. This time though, tears taste like relief and a little bit like joy.

Just because they’ve spoken about it, because they speak more about it, doesn’t mean things suddenly resolve in some singular moment of clarity where everything is perfectly alright. Zimms refers to ‘his boys’ in passing, and Kenny has a panic attack in the kitchen. Bitty spends a little too long talking about wanting to ride them and sex ends up off the table entirely for the rest of the day. Meanwhile Kenny keeps at the workbooks and the therapy sessions and the various self-talk techniques that are meant to help keep them from always assuming the worst in any given interaction. It’s not perfect, but it’s progress.

The off-season happens before any of them are really ready for it. Samwell gets iced out of the finals, the Aces get bounced during the semi-finals after a string of injuries, and the Falconers somehow go and go and go, until Zimms is standing on home ice with the Stanley Cup raised above his head. Bitty ends up on the ice during the celebration, helps coordinate the after party in Jack’s apartment. Kenny snaps both of them repeatedly, still in Vegas for all the postseason tie ups required as captain. Not being in Providence with their boyfriends, not being there in person to celebrate Zimms getting where they always promised they both would, is bittersweet. It does, at least, have the advantage that they can work through all the conflicted feelings it brings up before they’re scheduled to fly up the following weekend.

Kit is less than thrilled with the cross-country flight, mewling grumpily from her carrier as he locks the condo door behind them. Toeing off their shoes before leaving the suitcase in the hall and bringing the carrier into the living room to let her loose, they’re greeted by the sight of Zimms sprawled on his couch watching the History Channel, Bitty visible bopping around the kitchen from stove to pastry covered counter. As Kit pauses to investigate Jack’s coffee table the two men turn to smile at them, Jack letting out a gravely “Hey Kenny,” as Bitty goes “Oh, there you are, honey,” and Kenny feels their heart swell. If you’d told them a year ago that not only would they have the man they’d been in love with for nearly a decade back in their life, let alone that they’d be so thoroughly smitten with one they’d started DMing pretty much inadvertently, they’d never have believed it. There might still be a lot for them to work through, scars they might not even have realized were there yet, but this right here?

This was so much more than they ever could have imagined, and they wouldn’t trade a moment.


End file.
